


Iron Wrought

by STARfruitNinja



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Recruitment, Self-Doubt, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Tea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARfruitNinja/pseuds/STARfruitNinja
Summary: Not once in his 20 some years did he think he would ever partake in such a thing.His jaw dropped and he could only lift a shaking finger to point at himself.“You wish to have tea with, m–me!?”
Relationships: Gatekeeper/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 41
Kudos: 212





	1. A Small Job

**Author's Note:**

> yo intelligent systems where my gatekeeper support at? ya can't do my boi dirty like this
> 
> Also Byleth sorta has character in this bc i can't write protags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (edited 4/8/2020 for typos)

He’d been talking a lot with the new professor. 

Three months since she joined the Church of Seiros and she had already made a habit of dropping by the gatekeeper’s post, whether in rain or shine. He was always surprised at how in-depth their conversations went despite the brevity of her visits.

At the front gate, he would give his usual report, catching her up on the daily happenings that she was clearly already aware of. Despite her standing at the monastery, her knowledge of Fódlan history was spotty at best, but he was happy to fill in the gaps where he could. She often inquired more, and he’d redirect her to the resources provided at the library. He made an effort to ask how she and her class was faring as well. She was quite adept at her job despite her inexperience going by what he had heard.

A couple weeks ago, he had been watching her calmly peruse the local market's wares when he heard an angry yell. A tiny blue-haired student was announcing his presence, challenging her to a brawl or some such, right there in the market plaza. The gatekeep made for the scene; the students weren't allowed to fight on campus outside of training areas. 

The boy let out a battle cry before darting towards the professor, fists raised. Just as the gatekeep was about to warn her, it was over. 

The professor waited until the last moment, before she whipped to the side and swept her foot at the student's ankles, taking her opponent's legs out from under him. The boy, predictably, barreled into a crumpled heap, screaming out expletives. 

The gatekeeper was frozen in awe. He had never witnessed the professor in combat before (although, admittedly, that could hardly be considered a fight). She was so confident and sure of her movements. Not an action wasted, every move purposeful and a clear result of a wealth of experience. He could never be so capable. He always found himself fumbling and awkward with his own limbs. 

She pulled the student up, brushed off his shoulders and began lecturing on how to properly land the first hit. He couldn't help but admire how she was a teacher through and through, prioritizing on the learning opportunity for her students above all else. He shook himself from his astonishment, stepped towards the pair, and gave the student a stern talking to. He thanked the professor, who smiled, and returned to her daily shopping.

She was so incredible. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was even human.

It was a shock when one day the professor presented to him an invitation. His jaw dropped and he could only lift a shaking finger to point at himself.

“You wish to have tea with, m– _me_!?”

She only gave a brisk nod, her stoic expression unchanging.

Nobody had ever invited him out to tea before. “Are...are you sure you want to spend your time with me? You could ask anyone else, Professor.”

She tilted her head in question, “But I want to spend time with you.”

Oh, Goddess. “Oh, but I–uh...I don’t know anything about tea etiquette.” He averted his eyes and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “The commoner students had a lecture on how to–”

“I don’t know them either,” she stated with a shake of her head. “I was only given a quick rundown from another student. Don’t sweat the formalities around me.”

Well, it would be rude to refuse, he supposed. “...Okay, I’d be happy to, Professor.” Was he allowed to do this? “Although, er, my apologies, I can’t right now; I’m still on shift. I can at the end of the day though.”

She nodded with a smile. “See you later then,” she said as she dashed away, presumably to fish or meet with her students.

  


It was in the late afternoon, after the last school bell had tolled, when the professor met with him once more. The gatekeeper had been distracted all day at the prospects of sharing tea with her. He desperately tried to recall any information he had previously heard about formal tea etiquette. He even asked his superior and only got a laugh and a pat on the back, with a, “Got a date later today?” 

He couldn’t help worrying about how he could mess it up. What if he broke the dishes? Fine china like that was worth more than his life! What if he spilled the tea and burned the poor professor? He’d never be able to forgive himself. What would he talk about? Tea was all about conversation; he dreaded when he would run out of things to say and end up blurting out something embarrassing or unrelated.

She led him to the gazebo, tea and snacks already prepared and waiting. She strode towards one of the seats and he hurried behind to pull the chair out for her. She met his eyes, before chuckling and taking the seat. 

When he sat across from her, he was suddenly hyper aware of his attire: vision obscuring helmet and clunky gauntlets surrounded by fine china and tiny sweets.

“Er, may I take my helmet off?”

The professor glanced up from her task of pouring tea. “Go ahead. No need to ask me for permission.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit sweaty from standing under the sun. It’s almost Autumn, but it hasn’t cooled off yet.” He pulled his head free of the helmet and slid his hood off, running his gloved hands through his tamped down hair. He probably looked ridiculous, helmet hair and all, at least the cotton barrier between his skin and metal prevented his head from becoming _too_ damp. 

He slid his gauntlets off just as the professor finished filling his cup. He took the tea graciously, his grip trembling a bit. He felt the heat through the thin ceramic and with one whiff, found it gave off a very pleasant, sweet aroma. 

“Apologies, I don’t know much about the different types of tea. What kind is this? It smells wonderful," the gatekeep inquired.

“Albinean Berry blend. Common, and yet very good,” she answered. She picked up her tea cup by its delicate handle with an elegant motion.

He took a sip, expecting the flavor to be astringent, but was pleasantly surprised. It was light, with bright fruity notes covering his palate, the bitterness only seemed to enhance the flavor.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself.

“Do you like it?” the professor questioned.

“It’s good. Although, I’ve never had tea before, so I wouldn’t be the best judge.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened just a millimeter; that was a new expression. He had seen her show her happiness with just the slightest curve of her lips and how she’d bring her hand up to her chin with a cock of her head in question; surprise was new. “I’ll have to invite you out another time. I have a long list of flavors I have yet to sample and the market offers a wide variety we could try.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” he insisted, waving his hand, but was even more flustered at the worried crease between the professor's eyebrows as she set her teacup down. 

“Perhaps you are not fond of sharing my company? If so, I’ll make a note to–”

“No, no, no! I–er–” Goddess, how could he imply that in any way shape or form? He struggled to find the words to properly express himself and she patiently awaited his response. “...Your company is wonderful, Professor. You never cease to brighten up my daily routine when you come and visit me. Most people just ignore my greetings,” he explained with an awkward grin. She stopped looking like a kicked puppy. Thank the Goddess, he couldn’t stand to see her like that. He ran his thumb over the flared edge of his teacup as he searched for his words. “I just think that your time, money, and effort shouldn’t be wasted on me. You’re probably busy with adjusting to life here and interacting with the students and all of the tasks that you need to complete.”

“No.” He startled in his chair. Another new, well, not expression; he had never heard her so stern before. “Firstly, what I do with my time, money, and effort is of no one else’s concern but my own. But besides that,” she moved to pick up a couple of sugars from the center of the table, stirring them into her drink. “Much like you, my day is happier when I visit you. Your energy is a breath of fresh air, your updates are informative, and you always point me in the right direction for keeping me up to date with events. Believe me when I say that my job would be much harder without you around.” His chest swelled at her comments. “So please,” she added, “don’t think yourself a waste, my dear gatekeep.” His ears burned; he was probably red from the neck up at that title.

“O–Oh, I...I don’t know what to say to that,” he muttered, wringing his hands.

“If you understand that your presence is never a burden, then that is enough,” she answered, with that mature air he knew she had picked up from teaching. “However, if you ever find my invitations or company a nuisance. Please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The gatekeeper shook his head. “There’s no way I’d ever find you bothersome!” 

She smiled, and this time he was sure that his heart skipped a beat or three. “Very well then.” 

The professor sipped her tea and it was only then he noticed the soft press of her curved pink lips against the edge of the teacup. She set her cup down upon its saucer and tucked long dark blue locks behind her ear. He didn’t think himself a poet and yet he couldn’t help but notice these eye-catching details about the professor.

She noticed his staring when her doe-like blue eyes met his gaze, and he involuntarily startled again. Wow, how had he never noticed how long her eyelashes were? She tilted her head to the side in question. Oh Heavens above, she was so cute. “Hm? Is there something on my face?” 

“Oh!” He averted his gaze. “No, not at all!” he denied quickly. Way to ogle like a creep, he cursed at himself.

“Would you like more tea? A sweet perhaps?”

“Yes please!” and she huffed in amusement at his enthusiasm.

  


The conversation continued surprisingly smoothly from there. What had he been worried about before? The professor knew just what to say to keep the conversation going, they seemed to never run out of topics to discuss. Whether it be about the thriving colony of cats residing on the monastery grounds (which he certainly was not keeping down with the occasional plates of fish he left out, despite Seteth's orders otherwise), her mercenary tales, or latest cooking adventure. He shared with her some details about himself as well. He couldn’t shake out of his head the soft smile she had on her face as she attentively listened to him. It was embarrassing to be the center of attention for such a wonderful woman.

“Farmers, eh? That explains the calluses on your hands,” she pointed out.

“Oh, wow, I’m surprised you noticed.” He held out his hand. “Yeah, those farming tools are real rough. It’s a little embarrassing if anything. My hands are so broad and thick,” he explained. He started in his chair when she reached over to cradle his hand in hers. His heartbeat skyrocketed, ready to pound out of his chest. Her delicate digits seemed so small in comparison to his bear mits. Oh no, his palms were getting sweaty. Right when the professor was looking too! Oh Goddess, smite him now. The tips of her fingers traced the hardened bumps on his palms and he couldn’t help the tingles that raced up and down his spine.

She said something, but he didn’t hear it at first. The blood rushing in his ears made it hard to focus. “S–Sorry?”

“Your hands are like my father’s,” she repeated. “Mine aren’t all that nice in comparison to the other ladies here.” She splayed out her hand for him to observe.

She had calluses on her palms too, likely from daily training and teaching. Her fingers weren’t knobby like his mother’s; instead they were straight and tapered just slightly towards the ends. There were scars littered across her knuckles and he noticed dry skin that noble ladies lacked from the fancy creams they used. “Your hands are lovely, Professor,” the gatekeeper said. She glanced up in surprise. “The nobles here always have too soft hands. ‘Rough hands means you work for yer food’, that’s what my ma always said.”

“Do you miss her?” the professor asked. “Being away from your family? I’ve always stuck with my father. I can't remember a time in my life without him.”

He was silent for a moment. “I do– miss them I mean. It was nice, quite honestly. You worked hard, but you always reaped what you sowed. Literally.” They both shared a chuckle. He found his gaze wandering. The fields he grew up in spanned far and wide into the horizon, and laundry always smelled all warm like, but you’d never be able to wash out the smell of dirt. "I love being here at the monastery, but I always think there's gonna be a piece of me left there.” 

On those hot summer days during the Verdant moon, their wagons and barn bursting from the good harvest, the village held festivals. No meal in the world could ever beat a freshly crisped slice of bread, laden with his mother’s creamy potato meat stew. Each evening was filled with raucous laughter, bellies full, stories traded back and forth over the tables, tankards spilling with beer. Those were good days; and yet all he did during the festivities was face his eyes to the shining stars and dream of being anywhere else. It was only now, when he looked back, that he could recognise his foolishness. 

He grinned and pulled himself from his reminiscing, meeting the professor’s gaze. “I'm lucky, I gotta admit. I'm a first-born son and my parents let me chase my dreams. That's why I greet everyone, even if most people ignore me or find me weird for being so enthusiastic for a job as small as guarding a gate. But if I've made just one person's day a little safer, a little happier, then it's all worth it.

“So Professor,” he continued, “hearing you say that I’ve made your time here better really means a lot to me. Thank you.”

He felt a little awkward at her lack of reaction, but he noticed her stare flicker back to their hands, side by side. He jumped again when she flipped her hand, and slid it into his grasp, squeezing gently. 

He was fairly certain his heart stopped. It seemed like the moment lasted an eternity and yet far from overstayed its welcome. He glanced up to her, but her eyes were fixed on their joined hands. The setting sun cast soft shadows across her face, and he was entranced by the light that lit her delicate features in gold. It was like they were suspended between day and night, only at twilight could this quiet moment between them be shared. Her hands were so, so warm. Oh Goddess, what if she could feel how clammy his palms were?

“I don't think it's a small job." Her thumb traced circles on the back of his hand and sent electricity running up the gatekeeper's arm. "It's a noble one, I assure you. More so than the bloodlines, or nobility, or royalty lauded here." Her voice was barely above a whisper and the gatekeep found himself leaning in; he didn't want to miss a word. "To dedicate your time to being a small, but wonderful part of someone else's life requires a big smile and an even bigger heart." He could scarcely breathe when her gaze met his once more. "Thank you,” she uttered with such reverence, cerulean eyes swimming with something he couldn't identify. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

She withdrew her hand and he did as well automatically, his brain still stuck five seconds in the past, still processing what had just happened. A part of him didn’t want to let go.

“It’s getting late,” she said before draining the tea from her cup.

"Ah." That finally shook him out of his blank stupor. “Y–Yes!” It was only then did he realize how late it was. The sky was rapidly darkening.

He finished his tea and helped the professor clean up. He offered to walk her to her dorm where they parted ways in the dark of night.

In his quarters late at night, sleep evaded him. His thoughts utterly occupied by that entrancing smile and the quiet moment they shared. As he lay in his cot, he held his hand out before him, observing and recalling. He traced the paths her fingers had made across his palm and couldn’t help the way his heart swelled and chest tightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting on the back burner for 2 months, but I figured I had to post it before the new decade begins.  
> But yeah, this is gonna b the whole 9 yards, I promise yalls that.
> 
> Oh and just to clarify, this is gonna be Blue Lions route because that's the only route I've fully gotten through so far. Sorry Edelgard and Claude fans. I might do multiple versions for the other routes but I'll have to get through the rest of the game lol
> 
> Tune in next time when we get tea time part 2, a prince appears and the gatekeep nearly pisses himself.


	2. An Apology, a Dream, a Lost Item, and a Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An apology, a dream, a lost item, and a birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long! Some big life things happened after I uploaded the first chapter, so it took time sorting that out. After that, exams kicked my teeth in, but I'm here now. Sorry if there are any mistakes, this hasn't been beta'd by anyone else! I really appreciate all the comments and kudos on ch 1! I'm really happy ya'll's enjoying this!
> 
> Edited 3/3/2020 for typos  
> Edited 4/8/2020 for typos again

He found himself distracted.

Weeks after the event and the gatekeeper still couldn’t shake his thoughts from the tea time he shared with the professor. He’d recall the intoxicatingly sweet aroma of tea around them, the smiles and laughs they shared under the gazebo, the warm afternoon sun filtering through the roof. His thoughts were plagued with little flitting details he had observed of the professor: the way she laughed with simply an amused huff, the composed poise she held herself with despite being a commoner, and that hypnotizing, soft smile that graced her features. 

That conversation was the first of its kind for him, he had never spoken about himself at such great lengths before. The professor’s calm aura and kind eyes just prompted him to spill all of his secrets. He was certain that she could use it as a military weapon; nothing could be hidden from that unwavering gaze.

Despite what the professor offered, he was certain they wouldn’t be able to share tea under that gazebo anymore, what with all of the major events that happened one after another.

It came as a surprise when Seteth suddenly called for the Knights of Seiros to clean up after an incident in the Holy Tomb. That morning had been rich with festivities; the gatekeep had spent most of his time happily greeting civilians and making friendly conversation with his tour group. How had he managed to let church infidels in without realizing it!? A pit sank deep into his stomach. His one job, the one thing he was entrusted with and he completely failed it. Goddess, what would the professor say to him next, after having to clean up after the mess he caused?

It was only a few days later when he next saw her with the Sword of the Creator, the very weapon Nemesis himself wielded. Her popularity skyrocketed practically overnight; students flocked to her at every hour and she was happy to oblige their questions and requests. As a result, her daily visits grew short. She would breeze by with a quick wave before dashing into the market or disappearing into the main hall. 

He only occasionally caught glimpses of her throughout the monastery outside of his post. Once, he passed the Knight's Hall at the end of his shift and saw her consoling a red haired student before the fireplace; in the main hall, he noticed her speaking fervently with Catherine, likely trading secrets about Heroes’ Relics; and then again with a clearly distressed Seteth, likely on the topic of Flayn's disappearance. She could barely spare the gatekeeper a second thought and she felt further away than ever.

It was strange; he was happy that she was being recognised for her ability and yet, the gatekeeper wished the professor could spend at least a little more time with him.

And so here he was, standing at his post like usual, absently watching her wander the market again. How was it that she managed to lug eight different weapons for repair without breaking a sweat? She never ceased to amaze.

“Gatekeeper?”

He was shaken from his thoughts and he let out a little yelp when he realized the woman that occupied his thoughts stood right before him, her curious gaze on his face. “Ah, greetings Professor! I didn’t see you there!”

“What’s got you so distracted?”

 _‘You, dear professor!’_ was what he wanted to say, but he was certain he’d have a heart attack before he could even finish his sentence. “Oh, just...thinking about how busy this year has been!” He prayed his face didn’t betray his thoughts.

“Nothing to report?” she questioned, something of a teasing smile on her face. He swallowed hard. That was new; that smirk would probably haunt his dreams for the next week.

“Oh, no, there's quite a bit to report in fact. There’s a masked individual who has been going into town every evening and not returning until the following morning.” He grinned. “You see? Nothing gets past me! Although, I doubt it has anything to do with Flayn’s disappearance, but... better safe than sorry, I always say.”

She cocked her head to the side, contemplating his report.

“Oh, and I...” He cast his gaze to the side and wrung his hands. "I wanted to apologise for...for my performance on the Horsebow moon," he finally uttered. He briefly met her eyes and saw how her expression was entirely unreadable, back to that neutral stare. He had likely upset her, bringing it up. He needed to get out his words and be done with it. "It was due to—"

"Apologies Gatekeep," she interrupted.

He frowned. What was she apologising for?

"I absolutely hate to interrupt, but maybe we could continue this conversation over tea? I came here planning on inviting you out today anyways."

"Oh," Goddess, this was how he was going to die. "V-very well." He couldn't escape in such a setting. She would flay him alive excruciatingly over tea. Perhaps it was her way of ending their friendship. A final farewell; at least it was poetic in a way. "Although," he glanced at the sky to gauge the time. "Once again, I must finish my shift before..." Wait, the sun was already three-fourths of the way across the sky. “Is it already so late!? I have to report to my captain!" How had the day passed so quickly!? He must have been lost in his thoughts for the entirety of his shift. He had to shape up; he couldn't afford to be complacent. He'd never forgive himself if he allowed an attack to happen once again.

She smiled, but he didn't know if he should feel happy or terrified at the sight of it. "I'll be at the gazebo then."

"Yes, I'll try not to keep you waiting!" Well, at least he would be last seen by his captain before prancing off to his death.

  


When he finally caught up to her, she awaited him in the same chair at the same table under the same gazebo. The tea, already prepared and waiting. Her attention was occupied by a set of papers she was flipping through.

"Sorry to keep you!" he called out.

The professor glanced up from her work, smiled, and simply nodded in his direction before shuffling her papers into her bag.

He took the same seat across from her and she poured their tea in silence. Goddess, this was awful. His hands couldn't stop trembling on his knees and he couldn't pull his gaze from the ground.

"Gatekeep?"

"Yes!?"

She tilted her head at his unnecessarily loud volume. "Are you going to take off your gloves and helmet?"

"Ah, yes, you're right." How could he have forgotten that?

He slowly removed them with shaking hands. Why was he so nervous? He felt worse than when he had to take his exams. His palms were so clammy. This wasn’t even the first time they shared tea. How could a second experience inspire more nerves than before?

He had to break the ice somehow. "T-Tea!" he blurted out.

She frowned, holding his filled cup of tea out for him. "Yes?"

"Ah, er—" he took the cup from her. How long had she been waiting for him? Well, his was off to a terrible start. "What...what kind of tea is this?" He prayed she wouldn't be able to hear the clatter of the cup against the saucer in his trembling hands.

"It's chamomile," she answered smoothly. "It's a favorite of mine."

He took a sip. The flowery aroma was light and not overwhelming. It tasted like what he imagined a steeped dandelion flower tasted like. The flavor was just slightly bitter, but the scent really accompanied the flavor. 

The warm tea helped calm his nerves somewhat, but he was still buzzing with energy.

“Is it to your liking?” she inquired.

“Ah, yes! It’s very...” he trailed off, trying to find his words, “co-complex!”

“Complex?”

“Er, yes! Complex!”

She cocked her head to the side once more. Ugh, this was exactly what the gatekeep was worried about previously, blurting out something utterly incomprehensible due to his nerves.

“Chamomile is known for its calming properties. You seemed a bit stressed and I was hoping this tea might help a little,” she explained, taking another sip.

“Oh, really?” Was it that obvious? But, to think that the professor cared about him enough to pick a specific tea to help calm him down. She was so thoughtful. And here he was, so nervous he might pee himself if she so much as looked at him wrong. He set his teacup down with a sigh. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Professor. It makes me very happy you even considered my wellbeing when selecting the tea.”

She smiled warmly. “Of course I care for your wellbeing. What would we do without our wonderful gatekeeper?” That made the pit in his stomach sink further. “You mentioned you wanted to talk to me about something earlier?” She reached over the table for a biscuit.

“Ah, yes.” Her kindness allowed him to forget about that concern for a moment. He set his hands on his knees. “I wanted to apologise.”

“What for?”

“For the incident in the Holy Tomb a couple of months ago. I—” He pressed his lips together briefly. “I...feel responsible for the attack that happened. I was lax with my job and that was irresponsible of me.” He bowed his head. “As the gatekeeper, I’m one of the first lines of defence for this monastery and to completely fail at preventing an attack on this place is...”

“Dear gatekeeper.” He glanced up from his prostrating to meet her impassive gaze. “It’s not your fault that the attack happened.”

“But it’s—”

“How would you have been able to catch the church infidels before they had infiltrated the Holy Tomb?”

He wrung his hands. “Er, well...”

“They arrived disguised and blended in with the crowd. There would have been no way for you to tell.”

“And yet you and your students were put under danger due to my negligence.”

“We have missions every month, Gatekeep. I take my class out to gain battle experience almost every week. I put them under far more danger on a daily basis than you ever did.”

“But— I’m still...” he ran a hand through his hair, “frustrated with myself,” he admitted. “Being the gatekeeper is my only job here and it’s the one thing I failed on that day. If I can’t succeed in the one task I’m given here...what’s the point of me being here?”

She was silent for a moment. “If you weren’t here, who would greet me everyday then?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “...Someone else?”

“Gatekeep, I’m certain that your energy and positivity are one of a kind.”

“Please do not flatter me, Professor.”

“Please, look at me.” He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. In her expression, there was a fierce determination he had never encountered before. “I am aware that you haven’t seen me around many others, but I noticed that I smile far more than usual when I’m around you. 

“You mean much more than just a simple gatekeeper to me,” she continued. His eyes widened. “I don’t think there’s a person in this world who makes my days as you do. Please, I do not wish to hear another word of you being ‘replaceable’.” 

He flushed red. What was he supposed to say to that!? 

“Oh...Thank you, Professor. It means a lot,” he whispered.

“And you told me last time that you wanted to make people’s days happier. You certainly have fulfilled your job in that regard with me, I assure you.” 

She sipped her tea. They were both silent for a moment before she spoke up again. “I’m interested, what made you want to join the Knights of Seiros in the first place?”

“Oh, it was...” He scratched the back of his neck. “Would you believe me if I told you it was your father?”

She hummed as she nibbled her biscuit.

“My village was attacked by bandits. It was a large enough attack that the Blade Breaker was dispatched. He probably doesn’t remember, since it was so long ago.” He smiled sheepishly. “He saved my life and he was my hero ever since then.”

He could remember that day like it was yesterday. Even though he was just a young boy at the time, he would never forget the gallant figure Jeralt made on the battlefield that day. The gatekeeper had been seconds away from death as a bandit readied to crack his skull open with a club, when the thud of hooves thundered in the gatekeeper's ears. A javelin whizzed past his head and struck true in his attacker’s chest. A man on a horse was suddenly before him and the gatekeeper found himself stunned by the silhouette above, haloed by the bright sun. He knew who the man was; every starry-eyed boy dreamed of witnessing the legendary warrior. The Blade Breaker himself, the captain of the Knights of Seiros. 

The Blade Breaker called out an order, and dove back into the heat of battle, taking out groups of men with a single sweep of his pole-arm. The bandits didn’t stand a chance. The Blade Breaker moved with a fluidity the gatekeep had never seen before: his lance, an extension of his body; his movements, so capable on horseback, a result of ages of experience; even just his commands shook the gatekeeper to the core. 

The Blade Breaker didn’t even have a Hero’s Relic, just a normal steel lance. And yet, there seemed to be no foe, no enemy that could challenge him and win. The Blade Breaker was a normal man, but a capable hero all the same. The gatekeeper dreamed of being so heroic after witnessing such awe-inspiring fighting. He wanted to save people too.

“Admittedly, I wanted to become a true knight. To be able to be dispatched out on the battlefield. But...”

“But?” she prompted.

He dropped his gaze to the table’s surface in shame, tracing patterns on the tablecloth with his finger. “I didn’t meet the requirements to do so.” That was an understatement; it had been a catastrophic failure. Months and months of training and practice, all for him to completely bomb it. He had thrown himself at the exam again and again after that, and like clockwork, he never failed to see his name at the bottom of the ranking list. It was pathetic. He sighed. “So, I became a guard here.”

His situation wasn’t uncommon; becoming a knight was competitive, and so most of the guards were in the same boat as him. The professor’s face remained without expression. It was better than those sad looks everybody else would give him whenever he recalled the same story.

The professor then asked him how long ago it was that he saw Jeralt.

He sipped his lukewarm tea. “Somewhere around 20 years ago, I think.”

She put her hand to her chin in thought, contemplating something.

“Professor?”

Her eyes cleared and she shook her head. “Ah sorry, it’s just that my father’s history is something of a jumbled mystery to me.”

The gatekeeper’s brow furrowed. It was well known amongst the Knights of Seiros that no one knew the Blade Breaker’s origins. “Even you do not know his past?”

“Not at all I’m afraid.”

Wow, not even his own daughter was privy to that information?

“That reminds me, Gatekeep, when is your birthday?” she inquired.

“Ah, it was a few months ago actually.” He scratched his neck sheepishly.

She dropped the pastry she was nibbling on. “I missed it?”

“Oh, well, you weren’t even at the monastery yet, so please don’t worry about it. Plus you have been having tea with me and that’s enough.” When he was younger, back at home, his family would split a small cake that his mother baked. But since then, he didn’t make a habit to celebrate his birthday annually.

She frowned. “What do you want?”

“Huh?”

“For your birthday.”

“It was three months ago, Professor. Please—”

“What do you want?” she insisted with a stare that suggested she would not take any alternative.

“Really, Professor. There isn’t anything I need. You’ve provided plenty enough by being such a kind companion.”

She pouted. Goddess, she looked like a ruffled bird.

She reached under the table and rummaged around in her bag before pulling out a bundle of fresh flowers, immensely vibrant. He distantly wondered how in the world they could be in such good condition while being kept in a bag likely full of books. “Then at least take these. I grew them myself.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she only shoved the flowers in his face.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” she said, pushing the handmade bouquet into his hands.

He chuckled at her persistence. “Thank you, Professor. I will cherish your gift.” And her smile in response, more entrancing than any flower, the gatekeeper was certain to be his real gift.

They continued their conversation and yet he noticed the professor seemed strangely distracted from their earlier topics. To his surprise, they were briefly joined by an unexpected guest. 

  


It was while he was recalling how he had been kicked by a horse at age ten when the professor’s attention was briefly drawn away. She waved at one of her passing students, but the gatekeeper was surprised when said student approached their table. 

“Good afternoon, Professor,” the student greeted. 

Oh Goddess. He was starstruck; the Crown Prince of Faerghus himself standing within a meter of him!? Unheard of. Close your mouth, Gatekeep, you look like an idiot. But it was only made more awkward as the gatekeeper found himself repeatedly gaping like a fish out of water. 

The prince bowed to his teacher. “Please accept my apologies for interrupting your conversation, Professor. By any chance, have you seen a red hair ribbon? It apparently belonged to one of Sylvain’s previous trysts and he enlisted the help of both Ingrid and I to help find it.”

The professor seemed to think for a moment before diving into the contents of her bag to search. 

“Again, my most sincere apologies. I really should discipline him more.” He ran a gloved hand through his flaxen locks, clearly exasperated. “It’s completely irresponsible of him to not only lose a belonging of someone else’s, but to make his companions help him...” He heaved a sigh. “He wouldn’t stop making a fuss about it.”

The professor’s hum was muffled as she continued to dig through the seemingly endless contents of her bag.

The young prince’s bright blue eyes met the gatekeeper’s and the prince smiled politely. The gatekeeper was certain he couldn’t breathe. Goddess, how could somebody be blessed with such good looks!?

The prince set his gaze back on his instructor. “Apparently this past tryst of Sylvain’s is threatening his life over this item. So if you happen to have seen–” He was interrupted when the professor shoved a red ribbon inches from his face.

“This one?” the professor clarified with a tilt of her head.

The prince took the silk ribbon from the professor, investigating the lace ends in close detail. “I believe so. I have to check with Sylvain to confirm. Know that if I don’t return in five minutes, you have done us a great favor. Thank you, Professor. You never cease to amaze with how many lost items find their way to you.”

She shrugged dismissively. “I get around.”

He bowed once more and made his leave. The gatekeeper couldn’t help but notice the impeccable posture and manners that the prince displayed. Wow, the gatekeeper could only dream of being that cool and gentlemanly.

“Sorry for the interruption,” the professor murmured.

The gatekeeper shook his head vigorously. “No! Not at all! If anything it showed me just how much you care about your students, Professor. Like he mentioned, you never cease to amaze.”

She huffed in amusement and cast her gaze down at her teacup. “I’m not that special.”

She started a bit when he suddenly leaned forward. “What are you saying, Professor!? You’re incredible!”

She cocked her head to the side in question.

“Well, I’ve only seen a little since I’m mainly around the front gate and you’re a woman of few words. But I’ve seen you help people with their problems, you treat all of your students the same whether they’re nobles or commoners. You always put your students first and you’re so kind to everyone around you.” When he paused to meet her eyes, he was surprised to see her ears had turned red from embarrassment at the praise. A new expression! “And–and you even treated me with so much kindness even though I’m just a normal gatekeeper. You really are something else, Professor.”

She smiled softly. “Thank you...and please, I mentioned this to you before, you are much more than just a normal gatekeeper to me. I won’t have you selling yourself short.”

With him at the other end of the praise, he found himself flushing. “Oh–thank you, Professor. I really don’t feel deserving of the praise though.”

“I feel the same way. And yet we demand each other that we accept it nonetheless, no?”

He grinned. “You got me there.”

The rest of their shared time was filled with pleasant conversation. And yet he couldn’t help but notice the professor’s attention seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Something was bothering her, but he couldn’t figure out what. He figured it wasn’t his business to hog every bit of the professor’s attention, so he didn’t question her about it.

They decided to end their tea time a little earlier than usual and he walked her to her room again. And much like before, the gatekeep lay wide awake at night, his thoughts filled with soft smiles and long blue hair.

  


It was two weeks later that the gatekeeper found himself at the same gazebo, at the same table, sitting across the very same professor, tea spilled across his lap, utterly shocked at the proposition she presented to him.

“You...want me to... _what_!?” he exclaimed, his voice reaching new octaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gatekeeper can have a little Dimitri, as a treat.  
>   
> Lol the moment that the gatekeeper apologised in-game I was like “honey, how in Sothis would you have been able to tell? Don’t apologise” and so I basically had Byleth do that for me.  
>   
> Sorry this chapter is kinda...boring. Its basically tea time part 2, it's sort of a transition preparin y'all for next chapter where we hit a big plot point! Ch 3 will definitely come out sooner than this one took. I’m interested to see if yall can guess what’s gonna happen next chapter. Tune in next time for a confused class of lions ;>


	3. Greetings!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little POV switching in here
> 
> (edited 4/8/2020 for typos)

The professor was acting awfully strange.

She was seemingly distracted during lecture, discussion, and even during her tutoring sessions. She still managed to remain an impeccable instructor by the church’s standards: offering condolences to both Ashe and Sylvain when necessary and continuing with lessons as usual. But from time to time, she would simply pause and stare into space in a daze. Dimitri just couldn’t place a thumb on what had her attention so occupied for almost two weeks time now.

Unfortunately, neither Dedue nor the other professors offered any helpful deductions of their own. This wouldn't do. At this rate, her performance as an instructor may drop and affect the learning ability of his classmates. As head of the Blue Lion’s house, he had to escalate the situation.

“I have called all of you here today to consult you all on a certain topic.” Dimitri announced, before all of his fellow classmates in their respective classroom one Sunday afternoon. 

“This better not be a waste of our time, Boar.” Felix bit out from the back row.

Of course, Felix just had to be difficult every step of the way even for a simple discussion. “It is regarding our professor and her behavior as of late.”

“Yeah, and your crush on her the size of Faerghus itself?” Sylvain quipped from beside Felix. Trust him to make this about relationships.

“Stop joking around,” Dimitri warned just as Ingrid gave Sylvain a sharp look.

“Now, now, let’s not deviate from the topic. Dimitri has something to say.” Ashe stated, trying to bring the focus back.

“Thank you, Ashe. Now,” Dimitri placed his hands upon the podium in an imitation of their professor. “I believe you all have noticed it as well. The professor has been rather...distracted as of late. And I wished to consult all of your opinions to collectively deduce what could be plaguing our teacher.”

He continued, “Just as she has a responsibility to teach us, we have the responsibility of making her job easier. If our behavior is the cause, it must be remedied immediately so it doesn’t affect our classroom learning experience. Now, if anybody has any current observations, I would like you to speak now.”

The room was silent, save for when Felix sighed, stood up from his seat, and promptly exited the room, muttering about how little he cared despite his friend’s protests and attempts to drag him back.

"That's one head gone," Sylvain said.

"It's fine, we shall continue," Dimitri replied.

"Honestly, I haven't seen anything different,” Annette spoke up. “She cooks with us, eats with us, fishes, all that stuff,” she listed off. “I can't think of anything that could have changed."

"Maybe it's just that time of the month," Sylvain offered before Ingrid slapped his shoulder. "C'mon!" he protested. "It's a valid suggestion; you can't rule it out!"

"This has been going on for more than a week, there's no chance it’s because of that," she said.

"Hmm," Mercedes tilted her head in thought. "The only thing I can think of is that big battle we did last week. She was distracted before then, so I don't think it's the cause, but it could be one of the symptoms."

"I do have to admit that was pretty awesome," Sylvain said.

"Yeah, taking out an entire stronghold of bandits was incredible!" Ashe added.

Ingrid nodded. "Yes, it was very impressive. You could really see her mercenary expertise with her on-the-fly planning while we made our way through."

That's right, it truly had been a sight to see. The professor had suddenly begun instructing them on stealth techniques in the middle of the week only for them to apply it just a few days later that following weekend.

What Dimitri and his fellow classmates assumed would be a small bandit camp from the mission briefing turned out to be a sprawling stronghold. Not only were they horribly outnumbered, but the enemy they were facing was not just a simple band of thieves; this was an established bandit company, with experienced fighters. A frontal attack like usual would have been suicide.

Instead, the professor split them into two units. One group consisting of Dimitri, Dedue, Sylvain, and Annette led by the professor; then Felix, Ingrid, and Mercedes led by Ashe in the other. It came as a surprise when Ashe stepped up to the challenge, when he seemed so reluctant towards authoritarian roles, but the professor had apparently approached him regarding the offer beforehand. It was great to see him stepping outside his comfort zone.

It was a stealth mission, something completely foreign to most of them who were taught noble dueling techniques. Ingrid had balked at the idea of attacking them from behind. But it was this or the mission was to be called off, and when Dimitri saw how the neighboring villages suffered as a result of this bandit company...he knew there was no other option.

They were equipped lightly and they quietly infiltrated the stronghold’s walls by hiding in supply crates. 

The professor, during battle, typically hung back and let Dimitri take the lead, only taking out straggling enemies at the edge of the battlefield that weren't worth turning their frontal force around for. It was an understandable strategy for instructing her students, but this time the professor headed the group. She hugged every wall, every corner, checked over every shoulder and they all followed suit. She and Ashe had memorized the entire base layout as well as the guard cycles. 

Each patrol moved in groups of two, so two students would take out one guard at the same time. All traces and bodies had to be hidden. Not a word was spoken, instructions were instead issued via hand signals from the professor.

Mercedes had reported the results of the other group once the battle was over. Ashe seemed practically a different person. It was as though he was in his natural element, blending into the shadows and avoiding enemies silently. Paired with Felix, they were quite the team, despite Felix's lone wolf streak. With Ashe's quick thinking and previous experience, combined with Felix's speed and strength, they performed most of the takedowns while Mercedes and Ingrid covered their tracks.

The two teams had cleared out both halves of the entire camp before finally converging at the main tower. There had been a surprise attack from two powerful mages flanking the leader, but with the combined efforts of their entire class, they took him down alongside his lackeys.

"To think such an extensive base was right next to a village. Thanks to that, we freed up a lot of the Knights of Seiros that had been posted there long term," Ashe said.

Dimitri had his hand to his chin in thought as he processed the information. "But that doesn't tell us why..."

"Maybe Seteth asked her to do it. He always unloads chores onto her," Annette replied.

"In which case we are back to the beginning," Dimitri said.

"Perhaps she's dealing with love troubles?" Sylvain offered.

"She's not you," Ingrid retorted.

"Hey, who knows? Maybe at night she's out there breaking hearts left and right,” Sylvain winked. “You can't deny it."

"I do have to add," Dedue finally spoke up. "I did notice her with a man by her door from time to time."

"Hah! See, I was right!" Sylvain exclaimed triumphantly.

"Ooo, the professor has a boyfriend. I never thought her the type!" Annette said, wiggling in her chair excitedly. "Is it someone we know?"

"I could not tell, but from his clothing, he appeared to be a soldier from the Knights of Seiros," Dedue reported.

"Describe him for us," Dimitri prompted.

“He was wearing a standard guard uniform. I could not see his face as it was covered by his helmet. Both times I saw them, they seemed to be engaged in general conversation before they parted ways for the night."

"Could it have been Alois?" Ashe suggested.

"No, Alois's pauldron is...much bigger," Dedue said.

Mercedes hummed. "Then I guess it isn't someone we know."

"When did you last see them together?" Dimitri inquired.

"Last week, Your Highness."

"Why did you not state this earlier!?" Dimitri exclaimed, exasperated.

"My apologies. I had not considered it a possibility until now."

"Well, I guess it's case closed. Professor's dazed stares are because she's love struck!" Sylvain said.

"Just because they were seen together doesn't mean they're in a relationship." Ingrid stated judicially.

"You make a good point, Ingrid,” Dimitri said.

“Just ask her.” 

Everybody turned towards the entrance. It was Felix, leaning on the wall by the door. “It’ll save you all the time and effort.” 

“Guess Felix was more worried about the professor than we thought,” Sylvain goaded.

“Shut up,” Felix scowled.

“Well, admittedly he makes a good point–” Dimitri began, a hand to his chin as he thought out loud, before he was interrupted by the sound of the entrance opening once again. He whirled on his heel, indignant. “Oh, for Saint’s sake! This is supposed to be....” Dimitri’s words died in his throat when he realized who was standing at the door.

“I’m surprised everybody is here. I was looking for all of you.” The professor herself stepped inside the classroom. Her hair was a bit ruffled, as if she had been running around the campus, likely in search of her students. But something was different about her eyes. It was like the fog that clouded them was lifted and what lay behind was direction and drive unlike ever before. “Why are you all gathered here?”

The room was silent, simply staring at the object of their gossip.

“We were discussing Flayn’s disappearance. We were collating our data.” Dedue lied smoothly.

“Ah, I see.” She made her way to the front of the room. “It’s good that everyone is here. I needed to make an announcement anyway.” 

Dimitri still hung about awkwardly at the front, still processing the fact that their professor had walked in on their detective work regarding her without even realizing it. 

“Dimitri?” she prompted.

He jolted to attention. “Oh! Yes, Professor?”

“Are you okay?” She leaned into his field of vision, seemingly concerned at his wellbeing. Dimitri’s uniform collar suddenly seemed too warm.

“Y–Yes! I’m fine!” Calm down, he thought to himself. He straightened up and took a deep breath. “My apologies, Professor. What is it that you wished to announce?”

She nodded and turned to face the class. “I just wanted to let you all know that another person will be joining our class.”

“Who is it?” Mercedes inquired.

“I think it’ll be easier to introduce them tomorrow, when they actually come to class. They’re part of the Church of Seiros.”

“Why announce it now?” Felix inquired from the back of the room, still standing by the door, clearly contemplating on leaving in favor of training. “No reason doing it now rather than later.”

“It’s actually because I’d like to ask a favor from all of you.”

The classroom was quiet, clearly waiting for her to elaborate without interruption.

“They’re behind the class in terms of curriculum and technique. I was wondering if you all would be interested in helping tutor them?”

“Tutor?” Ingrid questioned.

“Teaching others is a fantastic way to improve your own understanding and ability. You can only fully understand a topic once you can teach it, after all.” The professor paused, noticing the uncertain glances among her students. “Not to say that I’m asking you to do my job for me. I assure you, that’s not my goal. If there isn’t anybody interested, then don’t worry about it. I just wanted to inform all of you beforehand.”

“It’s not that I’m uninterested,” Mercedes began, with a tilt of her head. “I was more wondering exactly what they need to be tutored in: magic or physical topics?”

“I have yet to assess their abilities. Once we complete introductions tomorrow, They’ll take the skill assessment to determine their proficiencies. I’ll make some more definitive decisions then.”

She briefly glanced about the room for any more questions. That seemed to be that. "That is all, sorry to keep you all," she said, before stepping away from the podium.

“Ooh, I’m excited!” Annette exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “I wonder who the mystery recruit is!”

“Maybe we could throw a welcome party of some sort,” Mercedes proposed. “I could bring some pastries.”

“Sounds delicious, but perhaps we should wait until after we’ve finished our introductions before we consider those possibilities. We can ask them to join the festivities then,” Ingrid suggested.

And the group devolved into discussion, save for Felix who left to return to his training.

* * *

The gatekeeper sat in utter silence, his jaw hanging open at her proposal. 

The professor startled when the gatekeep’s grip on his tea cup slipped. He ended up with a lapful of hot tea and he yelped. She stood up from her seat and handed him a handful of handkerchiefs she kept in her bag.

He cursed under his breath as he hurried to dab at the stain.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Y–Yeah. I’m fine. It had cooled quite a bit, so it wasn’t that bad,” he hissed, wincing.

“Here.” She took a few of the handkerchiefs and wrung them out before pressing them against the wet patch again. She glanced up, meeting his wide-eyed gaze.

“Oh–er, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Professor. I–I’ve got it.” The gatekeeper averted his eyes, taking the cloths from her.

She returned to her seat and waited patiently.

“Sorry. Could you repeat your request one more time?” he asked. “It’s not that I wasn’t paying attention...I just...” He scratched the back of his head. “I want to make sure I heard right.”

“I wish to extend an offer to you to join my class, Gatekeeper.”

He was silent, staring down at the back of his hands where he had a white-knuckle grip on the front of his tunic. “Why?”

“Why?” she parroted.

“Er, I just–” he averted his gaze. “I just...don’t really understand why you would want _me_ in your class.”

“You wanted to be like Jeralt, right?”

“Well, yes but I failed the exams to become a knight.”

“Yes, but I could instruct you. I’m his daughter, remember?” He met her eyes briefly, but he quickly averted his gaze. “I know everything about my father’s fighting style and I’m a professor here. I think learning in a classroom environment might help you.”

“I...can’t leave my post and your classes are during my shift and I can’t afford it, so I– I couldn’t possibly–”

“I’ve taken care of that too.” She crossed her legs. “I sorted it out with Seteth already, should you decide to join.”

“Sorted it...?” 

“Weekday shifts would be covered by others and you would only have shortened shifts on weekends. I would cover your tuition and materials.”

The gatekeeper sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I– Professor, I couldn’t possibly trouble you for something like this.”

“You’re not troubling me. I’m requesting you. I wanted to extend this offer to you.” The professor took a sip of her tea. “As a birthday present,” she added.

“Birthday present!? Professor, I told you, it’s already been so long. I didn't need you to get me a present and you already gave me flowers!”

“And yet I got you one anyways,” she answered. “My class doesn’t just sit through lectures. I also bring my class out into the field for combat practice, for real experience, which I believe is invaluable for someone training to become a better warrior. You would join these outings as well.”

He was silent for a moment, his thumb running along the teacup handle. “Professor...I can’t accept this.” He swallowed. “I’d be taking away time and attention that could be directed towards your students. To use the resources provided by the Officers Academy intended for today’s youth... it doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Please,” she met his gaze head on. “Know that you would not be taking anything away from my students. I haven’t spoken to them about it yet, but if anything, they’ve gotten to a point where they’re majoritively independent from me in their studies. I think it might be a good opportunity for them if you were to join since they could share their expertise with you. I think you have a lot of untapped potential.”

The professor reached over the table and grasped both of his hands in hers. Oh, goodness. Just like before, her hands were so warm and strong– she gazed imploringly into his eyes. Oh, goodness! The gatekeeper felt his face flush in an instant. He tried to avoid her pleading stare, but it was just too hypnotizing. “Please, consider this offer for your own sake and wants and nobody else’s. What is it that _you_ want to do? Reject it if you wish, I will take no personal offense, but I wished to present this opportunity to you without any obstructions.”

He was silent, clearly mulling over the idea in his head. “I–” He paused, pressing his lips together. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Absolutely.” She released his hands and returned to her chair. “Take all the time you need.” She began to pack her bag and clean the table.

“Oh, we’re done for today?” he asked. It had hardly been an hour of small talk before she suddenly presented her proposal.

“I was under the impression you wished to consider my offer in peace, lest I suggest you one way or another.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “I also unfortunately do have certifications that await me, so I must depart.” She bowed. “I will await your response in the blue lion’s classroom.” And the professor made her leave.

  


Which left the gatekeeper in his current predicament. 

Unlike the two previous times, their tea time session had started before his shift nd so he was left to mull over his situation during his work. It was difficult to focus on his usual greetings, even his coworker had asked what was wrong.

A group of students exited out of the main hall into the market, laughing and cheerfully chatting all the while.

The gatekeeper stared after them.

One pink haired student with pigtails excitedly browsed some wares while a boy wearing glasses and a blue haired girl trailed behind, discussing something.

Could the gatekeeper truly find a place amongst this younger generation? He was generally young by soldier standards, but he was certainly older than most of the students there.

There was no doubt he would find himself a goose among swans. He didn’t have a crest or a title; he was common-born. He wouldn’t be an official student, just a soldier that tagged along in their classes and missions.

If he was lucky, the other students would tolerate his presence. If he wasn’t, he might be ostracized completely.

There was no reason for him to join.

And yet...

“I want a report on platoon number five.” The gatekeeper immediately straightened.

The Blade Breaker approached from the pond side towards the stables, Alois and another soldier at his side.

“They indicated nothing as out of the ordinary, sir,” the soldier replied.

Jeralt paused by the entrance, a hand at his chin. “Hmm...”

“Sir?” the soldier prompted.

“Alois, prepare our horses. We ride out immediately.”

“Yes sir!” Alois immediately hurried to the stables.

“You,” Jeralt turned towards the other soldier. “Let Seteth know we’re departing for one of the villages on the eastern side, about fifty kilometers down the Airmid River.”

The soldier saluted and left right as Thunder Catherine approached.

“How’s Seteth’s homework treatin’ ya this time?”

Jeralt shrugged. “Usual Monday. There are reports of bandits ransacking markets and food storage all along the Airmid river, but none of our patrols there have been reporting anything. I think it warrants checking out.”

Catherine crossed her arms and hummed. “You don’t think...”

“I’ll reserve my judgments for when I see it with my own eyes. That’s exactly why we’re heading out.”

“Need a hand?”

“For now, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ll send a messenger with an update on the situation tomorrow.”

He lowered his voice. “If you _don’t_ receive the messenger...”

Catherine nodded. “I’m stationed here for the rest of the month. I’ll keep a lookout.”

“Thanks.”

“Captain!” Alois called out from atop his horse, leading along another steed which likely belonged to the Blade Breaker. Behind him Jeralt’s elite troops were already prepped for marching. “We stand, ready to depart at any moment!”

Jeralt hefted himself upon his saddle and directed his steed in front of his platoon.

“We’re departing immediately along the Airmid river a half day’s ride to investigate a bandit situation near a village. There won’t be breaks, so keep up.” And with that they began their march down the steps, through the market, and out the far gate. The gatekeeper only shook himself from his stupor when he realized he had kept staring after them in a daze.

His mind remained blank and devoid of thought as time wore on. Only the image of the soldiers marching underneath the banner of the Church, headed by the legendary Blade Breaker, monopolized his attention.

And him...left behind.

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks. No! That attitude wouldn’t do!

He stood up straight and smiled big. “Greetings, Anna!”

“Hiya!” Anna waved joyfully before heading to her usual stand.

He was entrusted with a job; a job to protect this entrance! He couldn’t sit around and be mopey about himself when he was helping to provide a safer environment for everyone here.

The professor’s words kept ringing in his ears.

What was it that _he_ wanted to do?

He wanted to protect Garreg Mach Monastery and he was doing just that by giving his all as the gatekeeper!

But...

He found his grin faltering.

But... was he? Was he protecting the monastery like this?

During the Horsebow Moon, he failed his job completely, letting in enemies without even realizing it. How could he confidently say that he was a gatekeeper when he made a mistake as horrendous as that?

The professor said it wasn’t his fault, but it was. He had to own up to it. It was his responsibility.

And— here he was, continuing on with his normal routine like nothing ever happened.

He stared down at his hands before tightening them into fists.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He supposed there was one benefit to being a lowly gatekeeper. He was common born, without family and home.

There wasn’t anything he had to lose.

  


“I would like to introduce our newest recruit,” the gatekeeper could hear the professor announce from outside. “Please come in.”

He placed both hands on the classroom doors before him, pushed it open, and stepped inside. 

Eight pairs of eyes turned and trained on him and the gatekeeper instantly regretted his decision as his stomach dropped through the floor.

“Oh, please, come to the front of the room,” the professor said. The gatekeep startled. He hadn’t even realized that he was just standing about awkwardly. 

“Ah, sorry about that! I didn’t know where I was supposed to go,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

When the gatekeep stood before the class, he swallowed hard. He tightened his fists to try and stop them from trembling, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable with his hands behind his back at attention.

“Please, introduce yourself.”

“Er, oh! I probably should take off the helmet, right?” He turned to the professor for cues. She nodded.

He slid off his helmet and hood, hurriedly attempting to straighten out his hair. His heart was racing. 

Okay, Gatekeeper, you can do this. You’ve greeted people hundreds of times over by now. This was the easy part. Big grin. “Greetings! Nice to meet you all! I’ll be joining your class from now on!” he announced, trying to project his voice in the lecture hall.

The room was silent.

The gatekeeper tried to keep his smile up as he glanced about the classroom nervously. He didn’t know what he was searching for. A familiar face? All of the students smiling and starry-eyed? All he saw was uncertainty. One dark haired boy just scowled; the gatekeeper wondered if he had wronged that student in some way before. He saw a blonde girl and a red haired man speak in hushed whispers with one another. They were clearly saying...something about him. 

Did he deviate from his script somewhere? He had spent hours practicing yesterday; he was certain he got it right. He tried to stop his trembling hands and prayed he wasn’t completely sweating through his underlayers. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he sat next to a student and discovered that he had reeked the entirety of class time.

“Pardon me,” it was the Crown Prince who first spoke up. 

“Oh! My apologies!” The gatekeeper immediately bowed. “I should have greeted you first, right, Your Highness?”

“Oh, please, you don’t need to address me with such formality. I’m just a student here.”

The gatekeeper righted himself as rigid as possible, his shoulders almost at his ears. “Y-Yes, Your Highness!”

The prince winced a little. The gatekeeper must have gotten his greetings wrong somehow. He’d have to ask the professor for tips later. “My apologies,” the prince continued. “I believe we met briefly once before and I do not intend to come off as rude, but who are you? What is your name?”

The gatekeep startled and mentally berated himself. Of course he forgot something as basic as his title of all things. “Ah, apologies, I’m the gatekeeper! I greeted you all when you would pass by the front gates!” He saluted. “I’m merely a guard within the Knights of Seiros, but I am pleased to make your acquaintance!”

“The gatekeeper...?” the prince repeated. “Should we refer to you as such?”

“You can refer to me however you like!”

The prince hummed, a hand at his chin. He quickly glanced at his fellow classmates, likely to gauge their reactions. “Very well.”

“Please, take any seat you like.” The professor gestured to the room. “Class will begin shortly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm so happy we finally hit it! Recruitment! Of! The! Good! Boi! I wasn't fuckin around when I said this was gonna be the whole 9 yards.  
> Sorry it took so long to update, I was going to update sooner and then school kicked my teeth in again.  
> Tune in next time when the gatekeeper learns how to befriend a pride of lions.


	4. Hit the Ground Running (or Stumbling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a long one folks. It kinda gets into the nitty gritty of byleth's class, so I hope it doesn't feel too technical and boring. Mind that the rating has gone up
> 
> (edited 5/11/2020 for minor typos)

The gatekeeper had gotten a glimpse of the Professor’s combat and teaching prowess as a teacher; he had witnessed her muted expressions and her immense kindness as a friend; but he certainly hadn’t prepared to witness her as a drill sergeant.

Her students had all dressed in their exercise clothes and awaited her instructions just outside of their lecture hall. It was quite the surprise when the professor had pulled out a set from under her podium for him on his very first day, perfectly sized. 

Push ups, sit-ups, squats, every exercise under the moon and then some. The gatekeeper was certain his extremities were going to fall off before the end of their session. Some of the elite Church of Seiros members poked their heads in during stretches. He didn’t know what was more terrifying, a hundred squats being called a warm up or Thunder Catherine herself watching and critiquing all of their forms.

The professor’s stare hardened for a moment before she snapped the file she was analysing shut. “Four laps. Ten minutes.”

Four laps around the building? That was easily doable. The gatekeeper breathed a sigh of relief at a nice break from the intense workout they were doing so far.

She glanced at her watch.

“Go.”

The students all immediately moved into action. Within the first minute, the students began to spread. After the gatekeeper’s introduction, they had jumped into their exercises, leaving no time for the gatekeeper to learn the student’s names. The dark haired boy that always scowled was in the front, followed closely behind by Prince Dimitri, and his retainer; after them, a young lady with a long blonde braid and a certain red haired man the gatekeeper recongized; behind those two, a grey haired boy and an orange pigtailed girl, cheering on the strawberry blond woman lagging behind in last place. The gatekeeper found himself somewhere in between the red haired man and the grey haired boy.

It was only after the students ahead passed the turn around the building completely did he realize. This...couldn’t be four laps around the entire monastery could it? Even guard training required that same distance in double the time!

“You can do it, Mercie!” the orange haired girl encouraged.

The woman called Mercie stumbled, her running form loose and awkward as she tried to keep up. “Aaa...Annie...wait up...” she gasped out.

“Just keep going, Mercedes!” the grey haired student said.

The red haired man called out over his shoulder, “Hurry up! The professor’s gonna make you run more if you don’t keep pace!”

“You’re not helping, Sylvain!” Annie said.

Sylvain cackled before picking up his own pace.

The gatekeeper struggled to keep up with how tired he was already; those stretches really took a lot out of him. Normal guard training had hardly any of that. Although he supposed the change would be a welcome one if he was going to become stronger.

The gatekeep was so focused on his own performance, he hardly noticed when someone pulled up beside him. It was the grey haired student.

“Hi! We didn’t really get the chance to introduce ourselves,” he chuckled. “I’m Ashe,” he held out his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

The gatekeeper quickly wiped his sweaty palm on his pant leg before taking the offered hand. “Nice to meet you too!”

“The gatekeeper, was it? What’s it like being a part of the Knights of Seiros?” Ashe asked.

The gatekeep tried to think of a coherent answer while he was exerting himself. “Uh, it’s just—he huffed for breath—it’s just my job. I’m just a guard, not a knight.”

“Oh, is there a difference?”

“Um,” the gatekeeper kind of wished that Ashe had asked his questions when he wasn’t in the middle of the endurance test of his lifetime, but he knew he couldn’t let this chance for socialization pass up. “Yeah, guards don’t go on missions and they aren’t certified knights, but we are a part of the Church!”

“I see, I didn’t know there was a distinction.”

There was a pause between them. The gatekeep cursed at himself, desperately trying to think of a topic to fill the void of silence between them.

“Are you...a noble student here?” The gatekeeper wasn’t sure if asking someone of their birth was rude or not. All the guards he normally socialized with he could safely assume to be common. It was a guessing game here.

“Oh no, I’m common born.”

The gatekeeper mentally sighed in relief. Thank the Goddess he was speaking with someone of equal standing. No pretenses or mannerisms to follow here.

“How about you?”

“I’m also just a commoner. My family works a farm just outside of Garreg Mach’s territory.”

“A farming family, huh? I lived in Fhirdiad and helped my father with his restaurant before this, so I wouldn’t know the first thing about plants.” 

“It’s not too difficult with experience. But, uh, by any chance could you give me a rundown of who’s who?”

Ashe smiled, “Of course! Let’s see... well, for starters,” he quickly glanced over his shoulder. “Those two are Annette from the Dominic family and Mercedes. They’re best friends.”

He then pointed up ahead, “Over there is Ingrid Galatea—

“And then Sylvain Gautier?” the gatekeeper clarified.

“Yes, do you know him?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say I know him, but...” Gautier’s shenanigans were something of breakroom talk for all of the guards at Garreg Mach. There seemed to be no end to his extensive list of escapades and his infamy seemed to be spread even outside of the monastery.

“He does have quite the reputation, I’ve heard.” Ashe said. That was one way to put it, the gatekeeper supposed. “Ahead of Sylvain is Felix Fraldarius and the crown prince,” Ashe listed off. “Those four are all childhood friends. Behind the prince is Dedue, his attendant.”

“Er,” The gatekeeper wasn’t entirely sure how to ask. “Is he...?”

“From Duscur? Yes.”

The gatekeep had recognised who Dedue was the moment he first took a seat in class—or rather...what he was. It had been quite the stir at the start of the academic year, when all of his fellow guardsmen began clamoring about a Duscurian within the monastery walls.

When the students were first invited for the opening ceremony, that man had followed closely behind the prince, prompting the gatekeeper’s supervisor to single him out for a search.

Since then, the entirety of the guards had referred to him as “the man from Duscur”. It was nice to finally have a name to put with the face.

“He looks a little intimidating, but he’s quite nice! His cooking is stellar,” Ashe said.

“Really?”

“He’s rather quiet, but he’s helped me with cooking duties multiple times over. He’s very kind. He’s also from a farming background, so you two might get along!”

Huh, maybe he’d try talking to Dedue some time then when the gatekeep could work up the courage to do so.

  


Felix was the first to finish the run, then Dimitri, who was soon followed by Dedue, and then Ingrid. 

Sylvain, Ashe, the gatekeep, Annette, and Mercedes didn’t make the time. The professor stood before them, completely silent as she marked down their times. Her silence spoke a million words and the gatekeep felt as though he’d melt into an ashamed puddle under her sweltering gaze. “Annette, Mercedes, extra reasoning at the end of class. Sylvain, Ashe, Gatekeeper, four more laps after the rest of our workout.” They all collectively groaned. 

  


Strength training was an ordeal all on its own. The gatekeeper considered himself fairly fit, about average relative to his coworkers. After all, he had grown up on a farm and was used to hauling around stacks of hay. But in comparison to these students, he was practically a noodle, even Ingrid lifted more than the gatekeep. He was especially amazed by Dimitri, who lifted more weights than the gatekeeper had ever seen at one time like it was no problem.

Once their group exercises finished, the rest of the class returned to the classroom, leaving those that didn’t make the time outside, running their extra laps.

Since they weren’t timed, they settled into an easy pace the gatekeep would have been able to keep up with easily, if he wasn’t exhausted from their earlier work.

“I’m surprised,” Sylvain said. “I’ve never seen the professor so enamored before.”

“E-Enamored? She seems intent on making me sore until the next moon!” the gatekeeper exclaimed. Sylvain and Ashe chuckled at that. 

“You kind of get used to it. She’s insistent on not coddling us,” Ashe said.

Sylvain snorted, “Hell, even the first day of class, she worked us to the bone. All the other houses got dismissed early! Ashe and I have been running these laps almost every time we have exercises, it’ll be nice to have one more to add to our little posse.”

“Honestly, I think she’s less intense than before,” Ashe remarked.

“L-Less!?” What could be even more rigorous than this!?

“Boy, was our first class rough,” Sylvain remarked.

“Yeah, she only planned on doing combat training for the entire year! She wiped the floor with all of us.”

The gatekeeper suppressed a shudder. Going up against the professor head-on right about now sounded like a nightmare; he’d probably be on the ground in two seconds flat. “But I suppose it makes sense. She trains you all like mercenaries.”

“Yeah, I suppose it has it’s benefits. We decimated the other classes during the mock battle. But Goddess, do I wish she’d go a little easier on us!” Sylvain said and they all sighed in unison.

  


The gatekeeper was exhausted after all that. He was way more out of shape than he thought. Going from standing all day to working your entire body intensely for two hours wasn’t pleasant. And this was only the first day! He was _not_ looking forward to waking up tomorrow.

Students were left to self study for the rest of class time. But the professor asked if Ingrid, Sylvain, and Dimitri could tutor the gatekeep on the basics of lances, all of them agreed wholeheartedly.

The gatekeeper could feel himself sweat at the idea of noble kids instructing him.

They gave him a rundown on how the class was structured. Mondays were self study while the professor tutored a handful of students, capitalizing on some weaknesses from last week. She also gave them goals to focus on throughout the week, which included homework for each student put up on the chart in the room. Tuesdays and Thursdays were lectures, while Wednesdays and Fridays was combat practice on the training grounds. At the end of the day on Friday, they held a mini-tournament within the class to apply the skills they’d accumulated the past week.

They began with quizzing the gatekeep on some basic strategies such as terrain advantage and advantages. When he mentioned he was a bit muddled on some concepts involving weapon types, they were happy to explain.

"Steel weapons have more might than iron, but they're less accurate and are heavier. Silver has more might than steel and is less accurate, but is lighter," Dimitri explained.

"There are some exceptions, like with gauntlets, but this rule is true for swords, lances, and axes," Ingrid added.

"Silver weapons have such low accuracy however, that steel weapons are generally better." Dimitri remarked.

Ingrid frowned. "I disagree. It's better to have a lighter weapon, and they have higher might anyways."

"If you can't land your hit in the first place, what point is there to having a weapon that does more damage?"

"It won't do you any good to wield a weapon that's too heavy, you won't be able to move quickly."

"Well, I think training weapons are the best!" Sylvain piped up, while leaning back in his chair.

The bickering pair turned to him with glares that could kill, "That's absurd!" "Be quiet, Sylvain!" they both said simultaneously before turning back and continuing their bickering.

Sylvain chuckled as the gatekeeper stared on in confusion. "Er..."

"Don't worry about it if you can't keep up, they're the tryhards of our class." Sylvain explained. "If you ever need notes though, ask Ingrid. Dimitri's notes are incomprehensible." The gatekeeper chuckled, but he still felt a sense of worry growing in the pit of his stomach. All of these terms and different aspects were muddled in his brain. 

"To simplify what they're saying, there are pros and cons to each weapon type. Iron does little damage, but is reliable, steel does a bit more damage, but is heavier and a little less reliable, silver does more damage than iron or steel and is lighter but is less reliable in terms of accuracy and durability. You don’t really need to remember all of this though. The professor is usually able to pick the best one for you and you’ll understand what we mean once you actually get your hands on these weapons." The gatekeeper nodded slowly. Trust the professor. That was all he was able to pick up from the explanation.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye, the professor calling up individual students to tutor. Ingrid and Dimitri finally stopped their argument only once Ingrid had to depart from their table at the professor’s request. He awaited the professor’s call anxiously throughout his tutoring. Surely she would call him up to address his weaknesses.

His tutoring continued with grips and stances until the end of the hour, but not once was he called up for a one-on-one with the professor. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or glad.

At the end of class, the professor went up to the goals chart, added the gatekeeper to it, and scribbled “Riding” and “Authority” beside his name. He was excited at the prospects of horseback riding, it had been so long since he had worked with horses. In the rightmost column, she’d written his homework: three different textbooks, with four chapters from each one, notes on each chapter due the end of Friday. Twelve chapters in five days. This was going to be hard, especially since he didn’t think himself much of a reader.

The following day, he was more sore than he’d ever felt in his life, his body aching in places he didn’t know he could ever get sore in, and he could only awkwardly waddle to the classroom on his shaky legs. At least today was just going to be a lecture, so he could sit and rest. 

He was behind in comparison to the class, but they’ve thankfully started a new unit. The professor began a lecture on the fundamental properties of different magic spells. There’s a part about casting which completely flew over his head, but she later moved on to discussing dodging tactics which he scrambled to write down. He didn’t even know it was possible to dodge magic spells in the first place.

Wednesday was Monday but far more painful. Again, they perform their stretches and exercises as a “warm up” and, again, the gatekeeper had to run extra laps. When he rejoined the rest of the class at the training grounds, he was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, his muscles still protesting with every step.

They started out with a continuation from Tuesday, a demonstration from the professor on how to dodge a fireball.

“There are a few things you want to focus on when it comes to avoiding magic,” she began. “The caster’s aim and their magic circle. You can determine their aim by watching their eyes or hands. It requires practice, but if you can recognise the magic circle, you’ll know exactly which spell your opponent will use.

“Thunder will strike from above; stay low to the ground and roll to the side. Nosferatu is also reliant on location; you need to dodge before the caster can change the spell’s direction. Fire is a homing spell, so it’ll follow you. The best way to stop these homing spells is to interrupt their path from a safe distance with a projectile of your own. You must do so quickly.”

“Mercedes,” she jerked her head to indicate Mercedes to step up.

“What should I use?”

“Anything.”

They both readied their stances. The professor had nothing in her hands.

The magic circle appeared under Mercedes for a second before a large fireball was launched at the professor.

The professor drew a hand axe from behind her and whipped it forwards, sending it sailing into the fiery projectile coming towards her. It exploded with gasps and cheers from the class.

A hand was raised.

“Yes?”

“Sagittae has multiple projectiles, how would you be able to stop all of them?” Annette asked.

“Fantastic question. Sagittae has a fairly low accuracy in comparison to Fire. I’ve actually managed to shake them off me when I was running in zig zags in a forest. You can also throw off the mage’s targeting if you focus on their eyes and hands carefully, timing yourself, and moving just before their magic circle is created.”

And with that, they began practicing. The class paired off into groups, with the magic casters using a neutered Sagittae against the others.

The gatekeeper stood up and steeled himself. He’d never dodged a magic attack before but he’ll have to fight with his tired muscles to power through it.

“Gatekeep.”

He glanced up at the professor approaching him. “I’ll be training with you one-on-one on general fighting techniques first.”

Oh. He supposed it made sense. There was still a niggling feeling at the back of his mind, but he had to suck it up. It was just another indicator of how far behind he was in comparison to the rest of the class.

The professor tossed a training lance to him. “Sylvain, Dimitri, and Ingrid instructed you on proper stances, correct? Get into your stance.”

He followed her instructions and she circled around him, observing his pose carefully.

“Just a bit lower; the lower your hips are to the ground, the harder it is to push you over.” He adjusted as well as he could.

“Not quite,” she said. “Here.”

She stepped behind him and, without any reservation, reached over and grabbed his hands. “You need a firmer grip on the shaft right here,” she said, her voice dropping in volume and her hands sliding over his skin. The gatekeeper felt his ears warm. He could hardly think with her sudden proximity and the unfortunate mental images a part of his mind conjured up. He could feel her warmth bleed through his exercise clothing, not to mention her...er, well-endowed chest brushing against his back. All his coworkers had commented on her chest in the Knight’s Hall late at night, much to the gatekeeper’s distaste. He didn’t feel like such a kind, talented, and wonderful woman should be reduced to such base characteristics. He tried to beat back those inappropriate thoughts about her. She was his instructor! He needed to focus.

“Gatekeep?”

That shook him from his thoughts. “Y-Yes!” he squeaked, wincing at his strained voice. He prayed she wouldn’t notice.

“Your feet.” She tapped his front foot with her own. “Forward.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He changed his stance according to her remarks.

“Perfect,” she said, right by his ear as she pulled away from him and he felt the back of his neck tingle from those words alone. “Don’t be too stiff. You need to be balanced, but flexible, so you can move quickly and easily.” She demonstrated, showing how she bounced on the front of her feet and how her shoulders were loose yet unwavering.

He tried imitating her stance, wincing at his burning thighs, but he pushed on.

“Show me your standard thrust on that training dummy.”

He ran a few steps forward before using two hands to pierce the lance into the chest of the dummy. He had done this kind of simple stuff before during guard training. His form and posture felt right.

“Hmm, hold your pose.” She stepped behind the dummy and twirled her lance in her right hand. “Let’s say I’m the enemy and you’ve struck me here with your blow.” She grabbed the end of his lance and held it against her shoulder. She then mimed stabbing his stomach with her polearm. “You’re wide open with both of your hands occupied with your lance.”

They both relaxed their stances. “Then what do I do?” he asked.

“Strike with one arm.”

“But won’t I have more force in the strike with two hands?”

“Yes, but most enemies are not going to die from one hit. With your core exposed, it’ll be very easy for them to take you down with them. Allow me to demonstrate.”

She took a running start, both of her hands on her lance before releasing her left hand and thrusting with her right. She paused. “You see? My front may be open, but if I had a shield on my left arm, I could protect my front easily. It’s also much easier for me to dodge if they try to take a swing at me.” She pulled her lance from the straw dummy and performed the strike again, this time, whirling to the side mid-strike as if someone had swiped at her. 

“You can thrust with two hands, but keep them far apart on your lance. Your hands shouldn’t come too close together unless you’re changing grips. Don’t push your arms too far forward, that way you can stay protected and balanced.”

He nodded as his head swirled with all of the new information.

“Let’s just practice those three attacks first.”

She had him practice piercing with two hands, which was self explanatory. With some practice, he got it down. Then thrusting with one hand.

“You don’t need to put too much power in your right hand. Just run forward and let the force of your body and the weight of the lance do the work for you.”

He was surprised at how powerful his strike was when he followed as she indicated. He wasn’t expending as much energy as well.

She then had him practice sweeping the lance with two hands. “It’s all about footwork here. It’s like throwing a ball. Follow through your steps and let the weight of the lance guide you,” she instructed. He still found himself struggling with his clumsy legs. “You can twist your body to help put more power into your strike.” He followed her instructions one more time. Run up. Right foot first—he swept his lance, leading with his left hand, and smashed through the training dummy with ease.

“Well done,” she praised. He wiped the sweat from his brow and grinned. He was still a little awkward, but he couldn’t do that before. Guard training really didn’t teach them much; they never went into the intricacies of the attacks outside of just putting more force into it. “You’ve improved so much already. Keep practicing these moves and I think you’ll be in great shape for Friday.”

“Yes, Professor,” he answered with a nod and she smiled warmly.

When he finally got started with his homework, it perfectly coincided with the topics he was learning, he could expect nothing less from the professor.

One of the texts was a beginners lance wielding guide, that detailed even more specifics that the professor hadn’t explored, with elaborate illustrations to show exactly where to place his hands and the best stances for guarding. 

His riding homework illustrated the differences between farm horses and war horses in their training and how to direct them.

His authority homework he struggled with. He wasn’t the sort to put himself out there when he could. But he tried his best to take notes and perform the confidence improvement exercises.

  


Thursday was another lecture day, now exploring the nitty gritty of reading and recognising magic circles. He wrote down everything, even if he had no idea what the professor was saying. He could investigate the topics in more detail later. After the lecture, he approached Mercedes and Annette.

“Er, Mercedes, Annette!” he called out. They paused in their departure from the classroom. “Is there any chance I could practice some of that spell dodging with one of you two?” They glanced at each other uncertainly for a moment. “If you two are busy, don’t worry about it then!” he amended.

“Oh no, it’s not that.” Annette replied. “It’s just...”

“Aren’t you still on basic lance forms?” Mercedes finished.

“Yes, but I still want to keep up with the class. It won’t do me any good to be behind.”

“Are you sure? Even Dedue and Sylvain had trouble with it. Only Ingrid had a good grasp by the end of class...” Annette said.

“Don’t worry about me! I want to at least give it a shot some time soon.”

Mercedes hummed. "How about next week?"

"Good idea, Mercie,” Annette commented. “By then you'll probably start to get a hang of lance wielding and normal dodging."

The gatekeeper put his hand to his chin in consideration. He supposed that it was better for him to at least get used to general maneuvering. "Okay, that works."

"We can work out a time and place when the date gets closer." He nodded and returned to packing up his bag. He had reading homework and practice to get to.

  


He was rattling with nerves Friday. There was a different atmosphere, the moment he stepped into the classroom in the morning. They went through the same practice and drills for warm up, but he noticed everybody else was more energetic, more intense, even Mercedes was pushing herself more than usual.

"Everybody— _haaff_ —is so intense today," he huffed during his second lap around the monastery.

Ashe chuckled, "It's like this every week because of Dimitri and Felix. They're so excited to spar today, but everybody is looking forward to applying what we've learned."

The gatekeeper kept quiet as he pushed on and wondered who he'd get paired off against in the tournament.

He should have seen it coming when he ended up standing in the training grounds with a lance standing before Ashe, who wielded only a bow.

"Er," the gatekeeper glanced down at his polearm. "How is this going to work?"

"Begin." the professor called out.

"Wait—" the gatekeep barely registered an arrow sailing by his head, nearly clipping his ear.

By the time he redirected his attention to Ashe, he was already taking aim once again. Ashe, whose eyes were typically warm and friendly, were focused right on the gatekeeper’s head. There wasn’t a chance in Fodland he was gonna wait.

Blood was rushing in the gatekeeper’s ears, he couldn't understand the cheers outside of garbled yelling. "Focus, Gatekeeper!" he distantly heard over the class. 

Move.

Ashe fired.

_Move!_

The gatekeeper stumbled to the right, practically dragging himself along and he felt a whizzing by his ear. He had to keep moving, even though his thighs still ached.

Another arrow right behind him. Keep running.

"C'mon, attack, Gatekeeper!"

Oh Seiros, whoever said that was right. This was a fight, he couldn't just run the entire time.

He began to circle back before charging for Ashe, who stood unwavering as he aimed straight at him.

"Weave!"

The gatekeep darted to one side before sprinting to another, huffing. It was a shorter distance and yet it was more exhausting than any run.

That got Ashe to move, he jumped back before sprinting away. How was he so fast!? He was never this quick during the runs. 

Okay, but now this was a chase. If he could just—

Ashe paused briefly to fire another shot before dashing away. The cotton-tipped arrow smacked into the gatekeep’s shoulder and he winced. Damn that hurt more than he expected, it felt more like a punch than anything.

He kept up the chase, but Ashe was slippery. He zipped about and ducked under the gatekeeper’s clumsy swings like it was nothing, occasionally firing from a distance.

His thighs and calves kept burning. He didn’t think he could keep this up much longer.

“Time!” The professor called.

The gatekeeper’s hands fell to his knees as his chest heaved for breath, sweat dripping from his forehead down his jaw. His legs were on fire.

“Ashe is the victor of this match.” The professor announced. “Well done, both of you. Take a seat. For the next match...”

The gatekeeper collapsed onto the bench beside Sylvain, who said something that the gatekeeper didn’t hear.

This was exactly what he feared. These kids were way ahead of him and they were just so talented. How could he possibly keep up?

“Careful now, don’t want to worry yourself into an early grave.” Sylvain remarked.

The gatekeeper startled in his seat, was it really so obvious? 

He stared at his hands. “I just...” he searched for his words. “I’m just disappointed with my performance. You all are so far ahead. It’s hard to keep up.”

“Chill out. It’s your first week here. You’ve barely had any time to learn.”

“I know, but I just... I should have been able to at least land a hit.”

Sylvain burst into laughter and the gatekeeper sighed. Maybe no one here believed in him at all. “Nah, it’s almost impossible to land a good hit on Ashe, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Ashe is great at evasion. When we started training together at the beginning of the year, Felix and Dimitri were the only ones who could land a hit on him! And he’s only gotten better at dodging since then.

“Even now, only Ingrid and Felix can really compete with him in terms of speed. You honestly did a really good job of keeping up with him.”

The gatekeep sighed.

Sylvain clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look, the professor didn’t pair you up with him for you to win. I think she wanted you to practice maneuvering and dodging with your lance and you did a great job.”

The gatekeep still frowned. “When you were learning, what was it like for you?”

Sylvain chuckled. “I dunno if I’m the best person to ask that. Actually, I don’t know if anyone in this class besides Ashe or maybe Dedue can answer your question.”

The gatekeeper tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“For us nobles, we were all taught how to fight when we were young, so I don’t remember a lot of my basic training. At this point, most of this stuff is just instinct for me.”

“I’ve started so late. You all were learning these skills from childhood.” The gatekeep wrung his hands. “Maybe it’s too late for me to learn these things.”

Sylvain hummed. “I don’t think it really matters when you do it. I think it just comes with experience. The reason we have those skills from such a young age was because the situation called for them. For many of us, we didn’t have a choice.

“I think having the drive to learn something means way more than already having that experience. If you have the motivation and the drive to learn and practice, the experience’ll follow.

“Focus on yourself and use these moments to learn. Talk with Ashe. I think you two would get along.”

The gatekeep felt a little better at Sylvain’s words. Maybe he was a much nicer person than the rumors and stories made him out to be.

  


The tournament led up to Felix and Dimitri squaring off. 

“Let’s have a fair fight now, Felix.”

“Shut up, boar.”

“Gatekeeper.” The gatekeep glanced up to the call of his title from the professor. “I want you to observe Dimitri.”

The gatekeeper swallowed and nodded. And with that, the match began.

They’re good. Dimitri’s form was in tip top shape, even after fighting against previous foes. The gatekeep noted how he seemed unshakeable with his lower stance. The lance was simply an extension of his body. He twirled and changed grips without pausing to think about it. Every move was purposeful and powerful. He breathed in time with his moves, took hits from Felix like they were nothing, and used his crest to his advantage where necessary. With the swirl of his azure cape behind him, he was the true image of a prince and the gatekeeper couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Felix was fast, changing his point of attack every moment to get small hits in, likely trying to wear out Dimitri as much as he could. It made sense, Felix just couldn’t compete on the same playing ground with Dimitri in terms of strength. Even as Felix darted from side to side without pause, Dimitri never once tore his gaze from his opponent. He remained focused and centered in the battle no matter what. 

As the match wore on, they began to tire and they were both getting desperate. 

Felix’s crest-enhanced slashes seem to happen at rapid fire now. Dimitri gripped his lance tightly before winding up. He lept from one foot to another as he spun, gaining momentum before slamming his lance down. Felix dodged easily, but it was evident Dimitri put in too much force; his lance splintered right beneath his hands and snapped into three even pieces.

He had to call the match.

Felix was the winner.

  


The gatekeeper breathed a huge sigh of relief the morning of Saturday despite his aching body. He had squared away all of his assignments last night on time, so he could finally relax and take a break from the busy work of practice and training. He didn’t even have any assigned guard duties today. Perhaps he would sleep a bit longer to rest up.

But just as he closed his eyes, he heard a sharp knocking at his door.

He groaned. He didn’t want to move. Who was knocking anyways? It couldn’t be his coworkers who shared the room, they had the key. He wrapped the blanket over his shoulders just a bit tighter until there was a second series of knocks.

He huffed and slowly pushed himself upright in his bed. Whatever it was, it better be important. 

When he opened the door, he was greeted with the professor standing at his doorstep. 

“Oh, did you need me for something, Professor?” he inquired.

“It’s time for a test.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gatekeeper in bl class:  
> 
> 
> whew! That was a long and difficult chapter to write! Gosh this probably is the longest chapter ive ever written. Hope it wasn't too boring! I've always wanted to delve into the exact schedule byleth has for her classes. Sorry, the Gatekeeper/Byleth is gonna be a bit more sparse now that we have class time.  
> School has kind of been kicking my ass despite the entire...situation going on, but chapter 4 is gonna be a fun one, i promise!  
> Tune in next time when the gatekeep doubts himself and has a wild ride.


End file.
